


Everybody’s Looking for Something

by DesireeArmfeldt



Series: In Out of the Cold [1]
Category: Canadian 6 Degrees, Wilby Wonderful (2004), due South
Genre: Angst, Crossover, Crossover Pairings, Dating, Doppelganger, Friendship, Hope, M/M, Movie Reference, POV Third Person Limited, Past Relationship(s), Pining, Post-Canon, Pre-Slash, Sexual Tension, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-09
Updated: 2012-11-09
Packaged: 2017-11-18 05:18:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,765
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/557296
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DesireeArmfeldt/pseuds/DesireeArmfeldt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ray Kowalski rents a movie from Dan Jarvis.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Everybody’s Looking for Something

**Author's Note:**

> This can be read as a standalone piece, but it seems to be sprouting a series. 
> 
> Thanks to Sock_Marionette for the movie suggestion.

"I'm looking for a movie," Ray tells the guy behind the counter.  Which is a dumb thing to say, being as how he's in a _video rental store_ , so he's expecting the guy to either look at him like he's an idiot or say something dumb like "Well, you've come to the right place!"  But instead, he gives Ray a shocked stare and doesn’t say anything at all.

Just when Ray’s starting to wonder if he’s okay, the video guy shakes himself out of his trance and says, "Sorry.  You look like someone I used to know."

Now, this is a thing people say to Ray from time to time; he's gotten used to it.  Most often it’s, “You look like that punk rocker, not the one who shot himself, the other one,” but he’s had people tell him he looks like that dorky guy they met in college in Canada, or (weirder) some _other_ Chicago cop named McGill.  Twice, now, nasty characters have tried to knife him, not because he’s a cop, but because they mistook him for some really _seriously_ nasty character.  Ray hopes he never runs into that guy. Then there was the time he bought a nice-looking dude a drink only to get turned down with, “You remind me of a guy who gave me the sweetest fuck of my life on the deck of a fishing boat, and no offense, but I don’t want to set myself up for disappointment.”  Which, okay, fair enough, and once in a while Ray daydreams about meeting _that_ guy.

So Ray just shrugs and tells the video store guy, “No problem.  Apparently I got a really common face.”

“There’s nothing wrong with your face,” says the guy.  Then he gets all flustered and honest-to-God blushes as he stammers, “I mean, I didn’t mean it that way, I mean. . .”

Ray’s not looking; that’s about the last thing on his mind at the moment.  Still, apparently he’s a sucker for shy flustered guys, like he’s a sucker for women who make no bones about taking what they want.  So he puts his elbows on the counter, leans in just a little, and asks with a smile, “Which part didn’t you mean?”

“I.  Um.”  The guy looks like he’s about to panic, but he can’t seem to take his eyes off of Ray’s face.

“Your ex?” Ray guesses.  “Or. . .secret crush?”

Now the guy’s eyes drop to his hands.  “You got it the first time,” he murmurs.

“Sorry,” says Ray.

“It’s not your fault.”  Which is true, but the guy looks so miserable that Ray really does feel sorry for him.

“Not over him, huh?” Ray asks.

“I don’t know if I ever. . .”  The guy sighs.  “But I was the one who left, so I don’t have much right. . .”

“Hey, you got a right to feel the way you feel,” says Ray. 

The guy meets Ray’s eyes briefly with a weak smile.  “Thanks,” he says, then sighs again.  “I feel pretty lousy about it, actually.”

Ray doesn’t say anything, just nods sympathetically and waits for the guy to spill like he obviously wants to.

“He was my first. . .boyfriend.”  The guy’s cheeks get pink again as he gets the word out.  “Well, my only one.”

“So far,” Ray puts in, quietly.

“Yeah.  I, uh. . .it took me a long time to admit. . .well, and I guess I’m still not very open about it.”

“I don’t always advertize it, myself,” says Ray, before the guy can get even more nervous.  That gets him a startled look, and maybe there’s something other than surprise under there, too, but it does also seem to steady the guy out a little, which was the point.  _See, you can trust me, we’re on the same team.  Secret handshake._

“He was. . .good to me.  Generous.  Patient.”

“Dull?” Ray guesses gently.

The guy shakes his head sharply, a little angry, even.  “No.  Peaceful.  Although. . .not always.”  He gets a little sad smile and Ray knows better than to ask for the details of what he’s remembering.

“So. . .what happened?” he asks, instead.

“I don’t know.”  The guy hunches in on himself, which makes him look especially gawky because he’s really really tall.  A hunk of straight brown hair flops over his forehead; Ray feels the urge to brush it back for him.  “I was afraid, I suppose.  Afraid of what people would think, or afraid of screwing up again, or afraid that—that I wouldn’t be good enough for him and he’d leave me and I’d be alone.”

“Seems like you’re alone now,” says Ray, which is a fucking insensitive thing to say, but the guy doesn’t take offense, just nods.

“It’s different in a city, though,” the guy says.  “You don’t know what _alone_ is until you’ve been alone in a town where everyone knows who you are and what you are and what you’ve done.”

Ray nods.  He’s spent a lot of time in his life feeling lonely, but since meeting Fraser, he’s learned that there’s a difference between lonely and actually alone.

“So. . .you were afraid your guy would dump you so you dumped him first?”

The guy looks down at his hands, which he’s twisting together on the countertop.  “I don’t know,” he says, softly.  “I just couldn’t. . .He gave me so much, and I wanted. . .I couldn’t even imagine.  And then I woke up one morning and saw him looking at me, and I saw.”

“What?”

“In his eyes.  How much he wanted from me.  He never said, he doesn’t talk much.  But I saw how he felt, that morning.”

Ray’s always been on the other end of that himself, the guy who wants more than anyone could reasonably be expected to give him.  It’s easy to imagine how the boyfriend-who-looked-like-Ray must have felt, aching to give the world to this sweet, gun-shy guy, but having to bite his tongue and ration out his feelings, so’s not to spook him.

“That scared you?” he asks.

“I couldn’t be that,” the guy whispers, so soft Ray can barely hear him. 

Ray’s not sure if he means he didn’t want the responsibility for someone else’s happiness, or he didn’t love the boyfriend enough, or there was some expectation he didn’t think he could meet.  He’s not even sure the guy himself would know, if Ray asked. 

Not knowing what to say, he reaches over and pats the guy’s hand.  He means it to be comforting, but the guy’s head snaps up and he gives Ray a deer-in-the-headlights look that makes Ray pull his hand away and back up a step.

“Sorry, I shouldn’t have—” he starts, but the guy is talking over him, stammering out his own apology.

“Sorry, no, I didn’t mean—”  The guy’s long arm shoots over the counter, knocking over a cup full of Tootsie Rolls, and his hand closes over Ray’s, covering it completely.  They both shut up and just stare at each other for a second.  Then the guy blushes deeper than before and lets go of Ray.

All of a sudden the whole thing seems ridiculous—what are they, a couple of middle schoolers?  Ray busts out laughing, and after a startled moment, the other guy joins him.  His smile makes his long face look younger and kind of sweet and actually quite handsome.

“No harm, no foul?” asks Ray.

The guy nods.  “Thanks,” he adds after a moment.  “I don’t usually talk to people about. . .things.  I don’t know why. . .”

Ray shrugs.  “You seem like you needed to talk.”

“Yeah, maybe.”  The guy shakes his head and seems to make an effort to pull himself together.  “Uh, so you’re looking for a movie. . . ?”

Right, Ray’s on a mission, here. 

“Yeah,” he says.  “I mean, a specific movie.  Only I don't know the name or who was in it or anything."

Which is totally useless, he knows, but the guy perks right up.  Maybe he likes a challenge.  "What do you remember about it?"  

“Well, it’s a Western,” Ray tells him, “And there’s these two guys who are best buddies, and they spend a lot of time getting chased by the bad guys, or maybe chasing them, I don’t remember.  The point was, they were partners, and that was like, the most important thing.  Didn’t matter if they died, as long as they faced everything together.”

“It ends with them dying?”

“I don’t know,” says Ray.  “I just remember the two of them, pinned down in a corner, loading their guns, and bickering about who got them into this mess or whatever, but they weren’t mad, that was just how their friendship was, you know?  And they were going to go out there and get shot at, but they had each other’s backs.”

“ _Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid_ ,” says the guy confidently.  He comes out from behind the counter and heads over to the shelf of Westerns, which is unusually big and right up front next to the new releases.  He grabs a DVD almost without looking and hands it to Ray.  The picture on the case—Paul Newman and Robert Redford looking ruggedly handsome, if you ignore Newman’s dumb sideburns—doesn’t ring a bell, but Ray’s gut tells him the guy’s guess is on the money.

“Cool, thanks,” he says. 

“Is there a special reason you were looking for it?” the guy asks, in a tone that sounds like he’s guessed what kind of reason Ray has. 

Ray shrugs, but then he figures, he just listened to this guy’s tale of woe, why the hell not?

“I'm in love with my best friend, but he's not interested,” he says, and wow, it’s weird to actually _say_ it to someone, but it’s a relief, too.

The guy’s deep-set puppy-dog eyes go all sympathetic.  “How do you know he isn’t?”

“’Cause I asked him, and he said so.”

That makes the video guy wince.  “I'm sorry.”

“Yeah, well.”  Ray gives him a crooked smile.  “It sucks, sure, but. . .See, this is what I want the movie for.  I need to make him understand, it’s not. . .like, the end of the world, you know?  So he doesn’t want to be lovers, fine, the important thing is that we’re still friends, that doesn’t have to change.  Him and me, jumping off the cliff together, facing the big guns.  That’s enough.  I want him to know it’s _okay._ ”

The guy’s staring at Ray wistfully—longingly, even.  Face heating up, Ray rubs his neck in embarrassment.

“Sorry—shooting off my mouth—strangers—”

“I had a friend like that in elementary school,” says the guy.  “I’ve never been sure if it was something adults really do.  Outside of the movies, I mean.”  While Ray is trying to figure out what to say to that, the guy adds, almost inaudibly, “I hoped it might be that way with my wife.”

Startled, Ray glances down at the guy’s hands: no ring.

“Divorced?” he asks, and when the guy nods, Ray says, “Me, too.”

“She threw me out for. . .wanting men.  Cheating on her.  Getting caught.  Not being in love with her.  I’m not sure what upset her the most.”

Ray winces sympathetically.  “Mine divorced me for not living up to her standards.  And loving her too much.”

The guy frowns.  “But I thought you said you were. . .”  Ray waits to see if he’ll spit the word out, but he doesn’t.

“Bisexual,” Ray tells him, and then, just in case the guy is really unbelievably clueless, “I like girls _and_ guys.”

“Oh,” says the guy, but he keeps frowning and doesn’t say anything else.

“What, you don’t believe that’s a thing?  You think bisexuals are just liars?”

The guy’s hands come up, palms-out, surrendering.  “No, I believe you.  It’s just. . .if you like women, wouldn’t it be. . .easier?”

“Easier?” Ray echoes.  He thinks about just what kind of closet this guy has probably been living in— _everyone knows what you’ve done_ —and dials his tone down to be less in-your-face. “Well, yeah, of course.  But somehow what I want never turns out to be the easy thing.  It’s okay, I’ve kind of gotten used to beating my head against brick walls.  Turns out if you do it long enough, sometimes they fall down.”

The guy looks at him like he doesn’t know whether to be impressed or horrified.  Ray meets his eyes—he’s not sure why he’s laying himself open like this, whether this is supposed to be comfort or a challenge or what, but he keeps his gaze level and lets the other guy look as long as he wants.  He’s got nothing to be afraid of, here.

Eventually the guy turns away, heading for the register to ring up Ray’s rental, and that should be the end of it, really, but as Ray hands over his five bucks, the guy takes a deep breath, his chin goes up like he’s facing a firing squad, and he says, “Do you. . . ?” 

His eyes get big, like he’s surprised to hear his own voice.  He swallows and tries again.  “I’ve got a pretty good TV at home.  If you’d like to watch a movie.  Sometime.”

Ray smiles, startled by the offer and even more by how good it sounds.

“I mean, not that one,” the guy adds, nodding at the DVD in Ray’s hand.  “I wouldn’t want to interfere with your plans.  With your friend.”

Ray pictures Fraser—fond smile, hand on Ray’s shoulder—and for a moment, he wonders dizzily what the hell he’s doing.  This is nothing to do with Fraser, though.  Hell, Fraser would probably be happy if he knew.  Load off his mind.  And okay, that thought stings, but Ray reminds himself about jumping off cliffs and keeping an eye on the important things and not screwing up their friendship like he screwed up his marriage.

“Tell you what,” he says.  “This is due on Thursday?  I’ll be back to return it, and maybe you’ll have something picked out for us to watch by then.”

“I think I can do that.”  That sweet smile creeps over the guy’s face again.  Ray could really get to like that smile.  But, damn it. . .

“Look,” he says, “You sure you’re not. . .I can’t be someone’s ghost, you know?”  Not after the Vecchio thing; never again.

The guy shakes his head.  “I know.  I don’t want that.”  He gets a funny little smile that looks amused and sad at the same time.  “You’re really not much like him.”

Ray nods slowly.  “Okay.”

There’s a hint of defiance in the guy’s eyes as they meet Ray’s.  “I don’t want to be someone’s substitute, either.”

“No, that’s fair,” admits Ray.  “Tell you what, we’ll both try not to be too dumb, how does that sound?”

The guy gives a soft, surprised little laugh.  “That sounds. . .possible.”

“Okay,” says Ray.

“Okay.”

“Okay.”  Ray lets his tone get a little teasing, and hey, the guy picks up on it and gives him a smile that’s part flustered, part ruefully amused, and maybe there’s a hint of something warmer in there, too.

“So. . .Thursday, then?” he asks.

“Okay, it’s a—” _date_ , Ray stops himself from saying, “—deal.”  He turns to go, then realizes that even though he knows a lot about this guy’s personal history, he’s forgotten to ask his _name._

“Ray Kowalski,” he offers, extending his hand.

“Dan Jarvis,” the other man replies.

“Pizza’s on me,” says Ray.

He scans the back of the DVD as he walks to his car.  The front just shows Robert Redford and Paul Newman, but one of the pictures on the back has the two of them with a woman.  He stops and shuts his eyes so he can really picture it: Fraser kissing a woman, the two of them sitting together on the couch, holding hands while they argue companionably with Ray about hockey. . .  And yeah, it kind of twists up his gut and he can’t think about it for more than a few seconds.  But it’s not so bad.  He can handle it, and it will only get easier, and anyway, it’s not like Fraser actually _has_ a girlfriend.  And. . .

He rubs his thumb along the spine of the DVD, remembering Dan’s big, long-fingered hands and his bashful smile.  Imagines pushing that stupid lock of hair out of his face.  Thinks about what it might be like to hang out and watch a movie with someone who _isn’t_ Fraser. . .  And even though that thought makes his throat tighten up a little, still, he’s whistling as he gets into the car.

**Author's Note:**

> For those wondering who are all these people Ray looks like, I had in mind (in order):   
>  Billy Tallent (Hard Core Logo)   
>  Mark (Double Happiness)  
>  Detective McGill (Shattered, the movie, not the TV show)  
>  Any of a number of shady characters CKR has played (e.g. Dodd from Memento, Gary Jensen from Suspicious River...)  
>  Duck McDonald, pre-canon (Wilby Wonderful)


End file.
